


Clearing the Air

by Jaye_Voy



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Adult Content, Explicit Language, Sexual Content, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 07:21:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6508315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaye_Voy/pseuds/Jaye_Voy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Set early in the first season.<br/>Originally written in 2003. Although there are some tweaks, the story's contents (and its flaws) are mostly intact.<br/>Star Trek and all related characters and concepts are the property of Paramount. No infringement is intended or profit made. This is rated PG-13 for language, violence and non-graphic sex.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Clearing the Air

**Author's Note:**

> Set early in the first season.  
> Originally written in 2003. Although there are some tweaks, the story's contents (and its flaws) are mostly intact.  
> Star Trek and all related characters and concepts are the property of Paramount. No infringement is intended or profit made. This is rated PG-13 for language, violence and non-graphic sex.

PART ONE

"Shut up!"

The low snarl cut me off mid-moan. I froze, biting my lip, trying to quiet my breathing. I hunched lower, listening for the telltale yell of discovery, trying to ignore the pain throbbing through my leg with every heartbeat.

I couldn't see anything beyond the back of Chakotay's head. Which was frustrating as hell, since if we were going down I wanted to see it coming. But I wasn't exactly ready to leap out and play Defender of the Universe, even if my arms weren't restricted by the way Chakotay had yanked up the back of my top to hide the flash of my hair. Just in case someone decided to climb up and look into the wagon.

We were hiding among some empty barrels and crates in an unsuspecting brewer's cart, crouched low, my back pressed into rough wood. If we were incredibly lucky, the guardsmen might not have heard about the search for us yet. We could sneak straight out of the city and get rid of the target painted on our asses.

The pain and still-damp patch of blood on my trousers made me hope we got moving again soon. Real soon.

I could sense the tension in Chakotay's body. He was coiled, poised to strike, almost vibrating in readiness. Janeway might have gotten him into a Starfleet uniform to play Commander Cool on Voyager's bridge, but right now he was pure Maquis.

Suddenly his hand slid back and squeezed my knee in warning. I stiffened involuntarily, gritting my teeth as the movement pulled at my wound. Over the blood pounding in my ears I could soon hear the guards' voices getting louder as they approached the cart, exchanging comments with the driver.

My hand automatically slipped underneath my shirt to draw my phaser. I cursed silently at the way the rough material dug into my armpit as my fingers scrabbled at nothing.

My phaser---not to mention both our communicators and tricorders---were back on Voyager, safe and sound.

Along with the other half of the away team, and the dilithium we had risked beaming down to acquire.

***************

Voyager hadn't found a source of the essential crystals since landing in the Delta Quadrant. Captain Janeway practically rubbed her hands together and cackled with glee when Harry registered dilithium on this ball of rock and mud. She ordered an immediate away mission, despite the planet's pre-warp society. I guess the Prime Directive bends pretty far when absolutely necessary. Or just really convenient.

Three hours later Dalby, Rollins, a *very* unhappy Chakotay, and I were on the surface. I still had a sour taste in my mouth from the tension in the conference room after the Captain laid out the mission. Chakotay had protested the rush. He believed we needed more time to assess the culture to blend in while the team acquired the crystals, especially since the atmospheric window only came once a day---for *two hours*. And just to make things that little bit more interesting, we couldn't be inside the buildings during beamout because Voyager's sensors wouldn't be able to detect us through the materials used for construction.

Even I winced in sympathy when the Captain airily dismissed her First Officer's concerns as nothing more than "away-mission jitters". Man, if looks could kill...Chakotay spent the rest of the meeting in stony silence.

Well, I guess he gets to say "I told you so".

*If* we get out of this alive.

I'm not sure what gave us away. The Doc's prosthetics were perfect, our clothes and currency authentic, the translators fully programmed with the nuances of the language.

Four of us beamed outside the fortress-like walls of a medium-sized town and had no trouble strolling through the gates. The place reminded me of medieval Europe: narrow streets, blocky buildings huddled close together. The main difference was that these people had a good plumbing and sewer system. It sure beat dumping crap in the streets---literally.

We made it to the jewelry district without incident, and found a merchant with a shit-load of crystals for sale. Rollins and Dalby had been hanging around casually on the crowded sidewalk, keeping an eye on things, while I accompanied Chakotay inside.

The Commander spun a pretty convincing tale of being a tinker wanting to step up in the world by adding "something extra" to the cartful of trinkets he sold to farmwomen in the countryside. He said he hoped to convince the ladies the gaudy baubles were all the latest rage in the city.

I think the merchant saw Chakotay as an easy mark, the way the sleazy old man kept suggesting that we needed just one more necklace, "so we didn't sell out". I had a hard time keeping a straight face as Chakotay, wide-eyed and eager and acting like he just fell off a turnip truck, let himself be persuaded to buy more and more dilithium.

We had a nice-sized pile of crystals in our drawstring bag and were concluding the deal when all of a sudden the merchant freaked out---no warning, one moment he's grinning like a skeleton and the next he's waving some kind of gun around yelling his head off.

We didn't stand a chance. Some law-enforcement types burst in the door before either of us could go for our own weapons. They frisked us, throwing all our concealed devices in the sack with the crystals. On the plus side, they were so busy explaining how the jewelry was "evidence" that *had* to be confiscated they didn't notice how bizarre our equipment was.

I could see Dalby and Rollins among the curious faces pressed against the shop window. They were signaling that our escape route was going to close.

A chill went down my spine. We could only transport once a day. If we didn't get out soon, we were stuck.

Chakotay must have known it too.

Shit, when the Big Man wants to move, he really *moves*.

He grabbed the gun arm of the guard closest to him, twisted it 'til the guy dropped the piece, then hefted him up and tossed him into two others. They all went down in a groaning tangle of arms and legs. He grabbed the bag of stuff, whipping it around to smash the fourth guard's face. Then he kicked the gun out of the merchant's hands, sending the old man sprawling.

I elbowed and punched the fifth and sixth guys, who were just standing there with stupid looks on their faces. I kinda knew how they felt---it had been a while since I saw Chakotay in action myself---but that didn't stop me from bashing the backs of their heads when they doubled over.

With a leap I threw the bolt on the outer door so the now-angry mob outside couldn't get at us. Rollins and Dalby were already pushing their way toward the fringes, so Chakotay and I jumped over the bodies and ran down a narrow hallway into one of the rooms at the back of the shop.

And boy, did I pick the wrong one. It didn't have an exit. At least, not a door.

We ended up in some kind of secure storeroom, all stone and mortar. Three huge safes, each taller than a man, stood against the back wall. With nothing else in the room. The single window was at least 5 meters up.

Chakotay locked the heavy wooden door behind us, then pulled out a phaser to melt the mechanism so it couldn't be opened from the other side. A minor violation of the PD, but I sure as hell wasn't going to complain. Especially since the guards were pounding against it in the next breath.

"Shit," Chakotay panted. Not exactly his usual eloquence, but I had to agree.

Then he strode over to the center safe, tucked the phaser in his belt and dropped the bag. He went down on one knee and cupped his hands. "Come on, Paris, get moving." 

I'm no acrobat, but I managed to grab onto the edge of the safe and scramble onto it as Chakotay boosted me. I looked down at him as he tossed me the bag. I had managed to drag him up those Ocampan stairs not too long ago, but that was using my whole body, and even then it was touch and go. There was no way I was going to be able to haul him up here with me. I'm a pilot not Popeye---besides, I was all out of spinach.

Chakotay must have figured the same thing, because he moved back toward the door, which was starting to splinter under our determined pursuers' constant barrage. Whatever they were using to hack at the thick planks, they were throwing their shoulders into it. And probably their backs as well. Those guys were really going to be sore tomorrow.

"Get ready," Chakotay ordered, and I automatically hunkered down, setting the bag beside me. 

I wanted to say "For what?" but didn't have time.

Next thing I knew, Chakotay was running straight at the safe. He leapt at the last second, his fingers reaching for mine, one foot managing to catch on the handle of the unit to propel him upward.

I got a hold of one arm and fell back. My stomach clenched in sympathy at the sound of Chakotay slamming into the edge of the safe, but he just kept scrambling up.

We ended up half-sprawled against the wall but managed not to fall off the safe or lose the bag. I gathered it to me and slipped the drawstring over my wrist. The first piece of door falling away jolted us both. I guess they'd found an ax somewhere.

Being those precious few centimeters taller, I stood and stretched toward the window. It was five panes of glass, four thin rectangles, two vertical two horizontal, surrounding a center pane. That one actually opened from some kind of hinge at the top, but the latches midway up each side were just out of my reach.

A hard grip on my hips startled the breath out of me and I was suddenly taller. Or rather, Chakotay was bracing himself against the wall, grunting as he lifted me high enough to flip the catches and swing the window out.

I tested the strength of the window frame by leaning against it, ignoring the whoozy swirl of vertigo, looking downward for a landing spot.

Fuck. The whole courtyard was paving stones. No escape route there. But at least I could see Dalby and Rollins---they were just cutting open the lock on the back gate.

"Any chance we can jump for it?" Chakotay huffed beneath me. He shifted, trying to keep me stable.

"Not unless you think we can drag ourselves away from the building on broken legs." My worry was clear even under the sarcasm.

I could hear Chakotay muttering under his breath, most likely cursing. I wanted to join him but didn't think he'd appreciate an expletive-laden duet right at that moment.

Then he asked, "How about up?"

I leaned further out and glanced toward the top of the building. The gutter wasn't impossible to reach, but the roof's steep angle and slate shingles weren't exactly made for an evening stroll.

Rollins yelled up, "Voyager's signaling. It's now or never."

Shit, no time. Looked like Chakotay and I would have to find some overnight accommodations. "Catch!" I shouted as I tossed the bag down.   
Dalby dashed forward to get it before it smashed on the stones, then moved away from the building at a run.

"Tell them to get the hell out of here," Chakotay ordered.

I didn't have to. They were already out the gate and fading into blue sparkles.

The sound of a shot and a bullet ricocheting off the safe shocked us both. I twisted to see a hand holding a gun stick through a hole in the door, fire, and draw back to be replaced by another.

Well, at least they were only single-shot firearms that needed reloading. Then again, if all the guys were packing, there were at least four more out there plus the merchant's.

"Come on Paris, move!" Chakotay lifted me again so I was now standing on his shoulders. I gripped the window frame with both hands, my sweaty palms slipping before I tightened my grip.

"I have to knock out this pane or we won't be able to reach!" I felt his shoulder move, then the phaser was being handed up to me. I cut the hinge, turning away as the glass dropped to shatter in the courtyard.

Another bullet. This time it slammed into the wall. This guy had much better aim. Tucking the phaser away I pulled myself off of Chakotay and twisted to face the building. Hoping that the window frame would continue to support my full weight, I scrambled up to stand on the edge and reached toward the gutter...

And screamed as the pane of glass beneath me suddenly shattered at a lucky shot. As I collapsed my right thigh sank onto one razor-sharp shard, blood spurting from the wound. I lost my grip, falling back, mind a startled blank---but jerked to a stop as Chakotay grabbed my wrist.

I shook my head dizzily, panting, my torso still swaying gently over thin air. Somehow Chakotay had managed to grab the opening where the glass was gone completely and haul himself up. He was teetering but never eased his grip.

Were my eyes as scared as his?

He shifted and pressed his spine against the vertical edge of the window for support and reached out with his other hand. We both flinched as a shot landed in the wall next to his head, chips and dust falling onto his shoulder.

I groaned as Chakotay carefully lifted me off the shard. I knew the framing pane of glass had been pretty narrow, but it felt like forever before I was free. I tried not to shift too much, my hands grasping his shirt as he pulled me to him. "Try to wrap your legs around my waist, Paris."

He leaned us out the window and turned, one hand gripping the top edge of the window. I tried, but my injured leg felt like it was on fire. I was afraid to check the damage.

I could feel the blood soaking my pants.

Shouts below us startled us both. I looked over Chakotay's shoulder to see two guards aiming for us. "Now or never, Chakotay," I tried to joke. My insides clenched as I saw them aiming for his unprotected back.

He grunted and moved with a suddenness that had me clutching at him with a gasp. The top pane of glass scraped along the back of my shirt as he gripped the gutter and pulled us up.

If it couldn't hold our weight we were both dead men. Bullets shattered the right-hand pane of glass, but neither of us got hit with the fragments.

Relief---or blood loss---made my head swim as Chakotay swung one leg up and hooked his heel into the gutter. For some reason the only thought in my head at that instant was that he was pretty damn limber for such a solid-looking guy.

I grunted in pain as Chakotay's full weight pressed into me a moment, then he continued his movement, rolling us both further up the roof and hopefully out of range of those weapons.

Chakotay released me and rose into a crouch, moving carefully on the shingled surface. I'll admit I was kind of surprised to realize he was shielding me from any lucky shots from our frustrated marksmen.

"Shit, Paris," he breathed.

I turned to catch a quick horrified expression cross his face before it smoothed into his command mask. His mouth was set in a grim line. "The glass must have nicked an artery. You're bleeding out." He plucked the phaser from my waistband. "I'm going to have to cauterize the wound."

I looked at him like he was crazy. We were on a roof, out in the open, and even if they couldn't get at us from the ground that door to the storeroom wasn't going to hold forever. Then I looked at my leg, sensing the spurt of blood that left my body with every heartbeat. I just nodded, tensing.

Chakotay frowned at the phaser, adjusting the setting. He glanced at me, and his eyes softened just a little. "Don't worry, Paris, I've done this before." He ripped my trousers, exposing the wound.

I just nodded again, but I also relaxed. I knew Chakotay was quite skilled in field medicine. Even though I was with his cell only a few weeks, there had certainly been enough rescue operations to provide plenty of opportunities for him to practice all kinds of impromptu medical techniques.

The burn of the phaser had me writhing, the shingles digging into my back. Chakotay automatically clamped one hand on my hip, and pressed a knee into mine, ignoring my struggles as he worked on sealing the top part of the jagged wound as best he could. I gagged on the scent of my sizzling flesh.

When he switched off the beam, I collapsed in a cold sweat. Then he lifted off me and put one hand behind my knee, gently easing it toward my chest so he could work on the deep gash in the back of my thigh.

He squeezed gently, giving me a nod, his mouth quirking in a hint of sympathy and encouragement. Then he ripped more cloth and focused on the wound once again. His touch was surprising gentle, even delicate. Finally he murmured, "That should do it."

I was profoundly relieved that the leaking sensation had stopped. It creeped me out more than I'd like to admit. I accepted his hand to stand---or rather crouch---and then his shoulder as we moved with agonizing slowness along the roof. Chakotay took my weight, keeping the wounded leg dangling useless between us off the tiles. We couldn't risk another bleeder. We didn't have time for another patch-up job.

"It's gotten awfully quiet down there," I observed as we shuffled and slid along. I felt Chakotay's nod. He was scanning our surroundings with wary eyes.

"We're going to have to get out of the city," he said.

I just nodded, exhausted, and kept going.

***************

When our unwitting chauffeur slapped the reins on the backs of whatever beasts were pulling the cart, I knew our luck was continuing to hold. Chakotay had hauled me quite a few blocks along the rooftops, crouching so we wouldn't be seen from the street.

It was starting to get dark by the time he chose a place to descend. I wasn't sure why it was so important, but he insisted we piss before we left the roof and that we not touch the street. Instead, we slid from a building ledge straight down into the high-sided cart.

The bumpy ride over the cobblestones was bad enough, but the dirt roads were worse. Every time a wheel slipped out of a rut the whole cart jounced, empty barrels and boxes sliding into us. Chakotay took the brunt of it, again trying to protect me.

Mercifully, it wasn't too long before we were away from the city and under a forest canopy. I was a little surprised when Chakotay leaned over to whisper, "Think you can grab one of those branches?"

"Huh?" OK, so I wasn't my usual eloquent self either this trip.

"We can't stay onboard. This guy's likely got usual stops built into his route, and I doubt he's spending the night in the forest alone. Plus we don't want to get too far from the city, since that's where Voyager's sensors will be targeted." At my resigned nod he moved to lean over the side to peer ahead.

He came back and we maneuvered to the back of the cart. I took a deep breath and signaled. Chakotay hefted me up, careful to keep away from my injury. I managed to hook both arms and my good leg around a thick gnarled limb, watching the cart move out from under me.

Chakotay made his transition to tree living much more gracefully, and quickly moved toward me. I was surprised he stayed *in* the trees, moving from branch to branch until he reached me.

He lay on his stomach along my branch and closed his hands firmly around my wrists. "OK, Paris."

After only a moment's hesitation I released my hold on the branch and clasped his wrists, then slid my leg free.

For a moment I swung by Chakotay's hands, then he was hauling me up into strong arms. I lay in his embrace like a bride waiting to be carried over the threshold. Which sent me a bizarre mental flash of white tulle and rose bouquets. But my "groom" didn't make a move to get back onto terra firma. Instead, he moved quickly to the heart of the tree.

When we reached the point where the main trunk branched he maneuvered carefully into the crooks of the sturdiest limbs, bracing his back and bending and supporting his legs so I sat in his lap. "OK?"

Confused, I looked at our leafy bower. "You want to clue me in, Chief?"

Chakotay looked at me in surprise. "We're stuck here for the duration. We can't go back down and risk leaving a trail. They already have the scent of your blood."

"You think they have tracking dogs?" I shuddered at the thought of hounds baying.

"They don't need them." Chakotay frowned. "Something we should have known *before* beaming down here."

"What?" I'm just going to blame my injury for the slowness of my synapses.

"These people apparently have a highly developed sense of smell. Did you notice they developed advanced sewer systems far faster than most humanoid cultures? And remember the old man complimenting us on how clean we were able to keep ourselves, living in the country and all?"

Ah, now it was clicking. "So you made sure they wouldn't have a trail to follow through the streets and used the alcohol smell from the cart to mask our scents from the guards at the wall." 

I paused. "So, what, we didn't smell right?" With night falling I couldn't see Chakotay's face anymore, but he'd better not be smiling.

"Well, as far as I can figure out, we were a little unfamiliar but not enough to arouse suspicion. At least until the end of our business." I felt him shake his head. "Fascinating culture..." he trailed off.

I nudged him to bring him out of his anthropological musings. "What went wrong?"

"I think we were supposed to give off some kind of scent, maybe a blast of pheromones or whatever, to seal the deal. I'm not sure exactly, but I think the merchant was calling us 'body snatchers' or 'soul stealers' or something. They might have legends about creatures who *look* like people but aren't. Like Earth's incubus and succubi."

"So we're the local boogeymen? Greeaat." I settled myself more securely against Chakotay, my eyes starting to close. If nothing else, with my own personal heating pad I shouldn't get cold during the night. One last thought slipped through my muzzy brain. "I *hope* they're just stories..."

************************************************************  
************************************************************

PART TWO (CONCLUSION)

I was lying in my husband's embrace, sated and cherished and utterly content. I remembered our anniversary dinner, the way his eyes glowed, his subtle flirting turning to outright teasing over dessert. After he licked the chocolate off his spoon one time too many I jumped him.

Clothes were strewn from the table to the bed, where I had finally pinned my mate, leering at his naked body and basking in his laughing, loving gaze. We kissed, mouths parting to share breath, taste, drinking each other in.

Hands roamed, his skin smooth and silky beneath my fingers as I found each curve and hollow to explore and claim again as my own. His touch on me, familiar, treasured, welcome, had me moaning deep in my throat.

Our bodies started sliding against each other, sparking the age-old rhythm of desire. Heat in the blood building, building, as I drove down into him and he arched upward, yearning, his cock painting a line of fire against my slick belly and mine finding no relief from the burning against his sweaty flesh.

Passion reached blinding consummation. I yelled into his mouth as my body gave in to ecstasy, jerking against my mate in bursts of pleasure. The splash of liquid heat against my own skin was a brand I was thrilled to bear, proof of love.

Rising up, I softly traced my husband's dimpled smile. I adored the way it seemed he was sharing the most wonderful secret. Just with me.

That he was smiling just for me.

***************

I jerked awake in shock, and felt Chakotay's arms reflexively tighten around me.

Chakotay. Not my husband, or my lover, or even my friend.

So why the hell did I just dream I was deeply in love with him? And celebrating my wedding anniversary?

Complete with details I could not possibly know. Chakotay *never* smiled at me. Certainly not with the expression from my dream, so tender, so...intimate. My head whipped around to stare at Chakotay's face in the daylight.

He certainly wasn't smiling. He also looked like he hadn't slept, which made sense if he was afraid of dropping me. His forehead was creased with concern as he shifted one hand to my forehead. "You don't feel feverish. Are you all right, Tom? You were moaning in your sleep."

Embarrassment and anger heated my cheeks. My reaction was pure self-defense. "Don't worry, Commander. I'm not going to spoil your paying off your life debt by dying on you."

It was churlish and childish, but I was still feeling horribly out of sorts. Maybe it was just residue from my dream, but it felt so *right* to be in Chakotay's arms. I was fighting an intense urge to tuck my face into the curve of his shoulder and snuggle deeper into his embrace.

I watched his face change, a wash of hurt ripple across, but then his expression became serene and still once more. All he said was, "I appreciate that."

He looked away, and I felt parsecs apart even though he still held me close against his body, sharing his warmth.

I knew my crack was uncalled-for. I also knew that it would sting. He wouldn't be able to just shrug it off as a comment by a disgruntled crewmate.

Chakotay wasn't like my father.

When I first joined Chakotay's cell, I was convinced he was just another hard-assed bastard. The Admiral---dear old Dad---had been pointing out "real men" all my life. They were all strong, true, but they were also hard and cold. Just like Admiral Owen Paris.

They sure as hell weren't *my* role models.

I had tagged Chakotay as another stone-hearted jerk when I joined his cell. Not that I cared. Money was money, and I had run up quite a few debts.

But that was before I had really watched him with his crew, and with the people of the DMZ. He was strong---emotionally and physically---as anyone I'd ever seen, but...soft. He wasn't afraid to let people cry on his shoulder, or ashamed to be caught singing a dying child to her final rest.

And he was always so careful, so gentle when he tended the wounded. Such a contrast to the ruthless way he killed their Cardassian torturers.

Thinking about it now, I guess I've been such a jerk to him on Voyager because I'm jealous. Maybe the truth is that I want to be like him.

And maybe I really do want him, too. And fuck, wasn't that a kick in the head?

I don't know how long we sat in silence, but Chakotay finally broke it. "We're not going to have any food or water until the window opens and we can get to Voyager."

"Figures. I don't think I've had one good stay planetside since we started this trip." I tilted my head back, staring at the canopy of leaves. "Maybe Fate is trying to tell me something."

Chakotay's dry chuckle wasn't due to thirst. "Maybe it's just bad luck." 

His voice dropped. "I'd hate to think Fate was involved. That we were deliberately stranded out here."

I looked at him, startled. "What do you mean?"

Chakotay shrugged, his gaze unfocused as he reflected. "When I think about how many people are suffering and dying because we're stuck on the other side of the galaxy..." 

He shook his head. "The only consolation is that Voyager isn't there either, hunting down the Maquis."

His attitude surprised me. "I figured you'd be glad to be out of the fighting. I guess despite the evidence I could never really picture you as a killer."

There was surprise in the dark brown eyes. "I guess I don't like to think of myself as one either. But I was willing to do what it took to protect my people. And now I've abandoned them."

"Not by choice," I pointed out quietly.

"But it was yours, at least, being on Voyager." Chakotay looked at me, his expression a mix of hesitation and speculation. "It's no secret the Maquis paid your ticket out here. Why did you sell us out?"

It's funny. Chakotay kind of asked me that once before---"What's your price this time?" He'd yelled across Voyager's bridge, all righteous fury.

Now the question was quiet. I think he truly wanted to know. And was ready to actually listen to the answer.

But could I tell him? I thought, here and now, I'd make a try.

"I didn't plan to," I admitted. Even though I wasn't looking at Chakotay I could sense his surprise. "I mean, my sentence wasn't all that long, I figured I'd do my prison time and make a fresh start."

I sighed, biting my lip. This was going to sound so pathetic. "But then Janeway said she'd served with my father. He disowned me, you know. And at that moment I had this wild idea that if I helped her she would tell him, then maybe he'd think of me for a minute and it wouldn't be with disgust..." I couldn't go on.

"I understand." I almost felt like Chakotay's voice brushed against me, a light touch of comfort, of empathy. "It's hard knowing your father's disappointed in you."

I wanted to duck my head like a schoolboy. Instead I pushed a brightness into my voice I didn't feel and changed the subject. "Yeah, well, I should have just sent him a birthday card." 

After a second I shot Chakotay a sideways glance. "At least then I wouldn't need a bodyguard to keep the crew from lining up to buy tickets to watch me get my ass kicked all over the cargo bay."

Chakotay snorted, probably at the image. "I never thought about selling tickets. I'd be swimming in rations." 

But then he sobered, looked away. "I don't think you're hated by the *entire* crew. And you have a good friend in Harry."

He sounded almost wistful. It suddenly occurred to me that Chakotay was probably even more alone aboard Voyager than I was. He was right---at least I had Harry. But who did *he* have to confide in?

Chakotay certainly wouldn't show weakness to Janeway and Tuvok, not when they'd been sent to capture him. He had to keep his happy face plastered on 24/7 to prevent the Maquis from implementing one of their near-constant plans to mutiny.

And the Starfleet folks might obey his orders, but they also watched him like hawks---or wild dogs. Just waiting for the first slip so they could pounce.

I bet I'd probably heard more of Chakotay's innermost thoughts in the last hour than anyone since the Caretaker grabbed us.

That thought still had me musing when Voyager retrieved us.

************************************************************

"I've repaired the damage to Mr. Paris's leg, and treated both men for dehydration and the Commander for deep bruising and exhaustion. They can return to duty in two days." The EMH trotted off without waiting to be dismissed, no doubt anxious to get back to more interesting lifeforms. Like amoebas.

"Well, gentlemen, we have quite a stockpile of dilithium thanks to your efforts. It sounds like you'll have a few days to celebrate a successful mission," Captain Janeway said briskly.

"To recover from it," Chakotay corrected, his expression neutral.

I wondered whether Janeway would unbend enough to admit that she had screwed up this time.

"That too," she replied with a glance at her XO, then patted my knee. "I'm glad you're both back safe and sound." 

She left without another word. Ah well, I guess it was better than nothing.

An awkward silence fell between Chakotay and myself. Finally he cleared his throat. "I guess I'll get going. Do you need any help?"

"Nah, I'm good as new," I replied. Then I blurted, "Congratulations. Life debt paid off in just a few months. I bet that's some kind of Dorvan record." 

I looked down at my restless hands. "I guess you're off bodyguard duty," I said lightly. I hoped that enough time had passed that my enemies would consider murder and mayhem a bit anticlimactic.

I also hoped Chakotay had forgotten my idea about selling tickets.

"Then I'll just have to pass the word that I'll still be royally pissed if anyone causes trouble for...my friend." There was a question in Chakotay's voice, and in his uncertain gaze.

As I stared dumbfounded I suddenly realized that he meant it. That he was offering me something more than the mutual respect that would continue to keep the crew off my back. "I---I'd be honored," I stammered, still stunned. 

On impulse, I stuck out my hand, shivering a little as it was encased in a warm and gentle clasp.

And then Chakotay smiled, like we shared the most wonderful secret.

Just for me.

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are welcomed with great joy and constructive criticism is treasured as a rare gift.


End file.
